


Scatter and Howl

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Cliffhangers, Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:24:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3123422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji wakes up to the feeling of fingers in his hair.  Everything is nicely domestic, until a gift from Aunt Masama arrives....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scatter and Howl

**Author's Note:**

> This is the continuation of my never-ending epic. 
> 
> The previous chapter was "Coming Out Party" and you can find it here: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/2904332>
> 
> This is a story that started way back on Feb. 1, 2012, with: "the distance between us," <http://archiveofourown.org/series/15002>
> 
> Followed by: "Curse of the Nue," <http://archiveofourown.org/series/21777>
> 
> "Chasing Demons" <http://archiveofourown.org/series/27457>
> 
> "Written in the Scars (of Our Hearts)," <http://archiveofourown.org/series/43255>
> 
> and, most recently "Senbonzakura's Song," <http://archiveofourown.org/series/64736>

Renji woke to the sensation of fingers combing through his hair, absently, and the sound of rustling newspaper. There was a strong smell of tea in the air, but not strong enough to cover the scent of sex that clung to everything. Renji smiled even as his head pounded. The skin of his ass felt sensitive, like it’d been slapped or spanked… oh, right, because it had, he thought with a happy little chuckling noise as he snuggled his nose deeper into the body beside him.

The paper flicked to turn another page and Renji adjusted his arm, where he’d flung it over Byakuya’s lap at some point. A soft sip of tea and then: “The new Seireitei Communiqué is out. Aren’t you following Shunsui’s silly romance, Renji?”

“Oh!” Renji shot upright to snatch the bit of the newspaper Byakuya handed him. “That’s right! The rival was confronting ... er, what’s his name! And things were looking all super-tragic because his lover thought it was him all along, but it was really…”

“Yes, yes, thank you for that recap,” Byakuya sighed. “Honestly, I find the whole story ridiculous and heavy-handed.”

“Shhh,” Renji admonished, trying to blink away the sleep long enough to concentrate on the words. The blinding hangover didn’t help. He squinted at the columns for another few seconds before being forced to either sound out syllables or give up. Closing his rebellious eyes, Renji let his head clunk against the headboard of the bed and dropped the paper over his face in defeat. “Ugh. Too hard.”

Byakuya let out a fond, yet clearly judgmental sigh. “Wages of sin, Renji Abarai.” A little more clucking and then the paper was lifted from Renji’s nose and a quick kiss was placed there instead. “Shall I read it to you?”

Renji cracked open a suspicious eye. “I thought you hated it.”

“I do,” Byakuya said, re-creasing the paper’s folds and sliding them back inside the rest of the Communiqué where they belonged. “But I don’t mind reading to you. We have a bit of time before you have to be on duty.”

“Ugh, a double!” Renji groaned, sliding down and pulling the blanket up to try to hide under. “Why do I do this shit to myself?”

Byakuya shook his head, his fingers softly smoothing Renji’s hair where it stuck out from under the blanket. “Possibly because you’re an idiot.”

Peeking back out, Renji chuckled. “Oh, right. I forgot about that.”

“Did your friends…?” Byakuya stopped whatever he was going to say, and, turning back to his paper, asked, “Did you have a good time?”

Renji sat back up. Looking around, he spotted the tea tray balanced on the end table. He crawled over Byakuya’s lap to help himself to a cup. Probably what Byakuya was wondering was whether or not Renji’d worked out the whole post-traumatic thing, but it wasn’t like that was going to be a one-bender fix. Though, honestly, he felt fine.

Well, other than the massive hangover.

When Byakuya’s hand rested on his ass, Renji was so startled he nearly threw his tea bowl across the room. “Oi, what’re you doing back there? You’re going to give a guy a heart attack!”

“I’m sorry,” Byakuya said, not sounding at all apologetic, and not moving his hand at all, “But you’ve left me this attractive tattooed target.” Then the humor left his voice a bit and Renji felt Byakuya’s fingers lightly cup a section of his thigh, “And I seem to have left a perfect handprint on you.”

That was kind of surprising. Hardly anything marked Renji’s skin any more--at least, no enemy could. Maybe that was the difference. Perhaps when he was open and vulnerable, like during sex, his reiatsu didn’t instinctively harden his skin. Byakuya had bruised him before, after all.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. We had fun, it’ll fade,” Renji said, moving back into his spot. Byakuya’s hand trailed up along Renji’s back as he resettled, but eventually left him to turn the page of the Communiqué. Renji cupped the tea to his face, and tried to imagine the steam as the restorative water from the magic sento in Lady Yoruichi’s secret underground training area. 

Byakuya cleared his throat and began reading, “She glanced between the two men, her sparkling green eyes alight with passion…” Byakuya halted abruptly. “’Alight with passion.’ Dear gods. And green eyes? Sparkling, no less. Could the heroine be more obviously Ukitake? Look at this,” he slapped the paper, “She has snowy locks and everything.”

Renji had closed his eyes in happy anticipation and now he glared at Byakuya. “Are you going to editorialize the whole thing? Because I kind want to know what happens.”

“Right, my apologies,” Byakuya said actually sounding sincerely chagrined. “Very well. Drink your tea. I’ll start again.” He flicked out the newspaper and began, “She glanced between the two men…”

#

Renji hadn’t meant to, but the sound of Byakuya’s voice put him right out. He only woke up again when the tea bowl tumbled from his grip. Luckily it was mostly empty, but it rolled down his chest and the ceramic landed in a rather sensitive spot. “Cripes,” he muttered wiping off the little trail of moisture from his chest, “Now my crotch going to be sore on top of everything else.”

“You really are quite the mess,” Byakuya agreed fondly. “Did you even hear much of the story? I think you started snoring before the sword fight and the rival’s big soliloquy.”

“Wait, what?” Renji rubbed his face. He must’ve been dozing and half-dreaming, because he had a vague sense of the storyline when Byakuya laid it out like that. “So, did he win?”

“Who?”

“The hero, of course,” Renji said.

“It’s a cliffhanger,” Byakuya said with a little disappointed look at the paper. “We won’t know for another month.”

“Damn it,” Renji said, stifling a yawn. The tea and the micro-nap seemed to have done him some good, though. His head felt a little less fuzzy.

“I will say,” Byakuya continued thoughtfully. “I have more sympathy than I thought I would for this rival character. His backstory is very tragic. I find I’m uncertain I wish to see him completely defeated.”

“See,” Renji said with a big nod. “It’s a good story.”

“It’s cheesy,” Byakuya said, setting the paper aside to stand up out of bed. He moved over to where his uniform had been laid out for him. “And overwritten.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not good,” Renji returned, laying back to appreciate the sight of Byakuya letting the sleeping yukata slide to the floor as he stepped into fundoshi. Byakuya seemed to wear underwear whenever it was laid out for him. Renji was thinking about having a talk with Eishirō, because, really, he’d gone most of his life without and, frankly, it was so much easier when it came to a quick piss or a quickie of another kind. 

Still, it looked surprisingly good on Byakuya. Fundoshi wasn’t too much more than a thong and it should look ridiculous and wrong, but, yeah, no, Byakuya managed to rock them. Just like he did anything. It was, after all, a well-known and long-established fact that Byakuya would look good in a wet paper bag.

Renji really was one seriously lucky bastard.

“You should stop ogling me and get dressed. You’ll be late.”

“Ain’t my fault,” Renji smiled as he pulled himself out of bed to obey. But, despite the fact that he knew it would just make him later, Renji had to come up behind Byakuya, pull inky hair away from shoulder, and kiss the tender neck. Into Byakuya’s ear, he murmured: “It’s like you said: you presented an irresistible target.”

Byakuya made a happy noise, but playfully smacked Renji on the nose. “Go. You can’t be late. Not today.”

#

 _Not today, not when everyone would be watching them,_ Renji thought. Dashing across the snow-dusted garden, he made his way to the estate’s main gate into the Division proper.

Renji was running too late to have breakfast with Byakuya, so he decided to grab a quick tray at the Mess. He knew it might be a mistake, what with all the talk that was probably circulating, but his stomach gave exactly zero fucks what anybody thought about him this morning. His hung over brain agreed. Because: strong, ass-kicking tea and food--those were his priorities at the moment.

This time, instead of hushed silence, the room seemed to erupt in murmured gossip the second he walked through the door. Even though he felt the stares at his back, Renji just acted like they were all thinking about how awesome a lieutenant he was instead of wondering where he’d slept last night and what he’d been doing and with whom. 

He grabbed nattō, a bit of rice, a two hardboiled eggs, nozawana pickles, and small bowl of miso soup. At the end of the line he had to put in an order for a take-away pot of tea. “Make it extra strong, if you would, please,” he asked the server who took his order. He pointed to his nose. “Hung over.”

She smiled kindly at him and scurried off to get the teapot.

Renji considered leaning against the wall to wait, but his stomach had designs on the eggs, so he picked a nearby table and sat down. Only a few other soldiers were clustered at the far end. Renji gave them a little nod of greeting, which they returned without any weirdness. Huh. Well, maybe not everyone knew all the dirt already. With any luck, maybe some of them didn’t care one way or the other. Even better, Renji thought, it was possible that with it out in the open, no one would feel a burning need to crack wise or snark.

He had the eggs, most of the pickles, and the miso mostly eaten by the time the teapot arrived. The servant girl gave him a little bow and said, “The good stuff, for the Lieutenant’s head.”

He bowed back. “That’s kind of you, thank you very much.”

She twittered, clearly not used to being so appreciated. She shot him a flirty smile and then, with a furious blush, disappeared into kitchen.

“Now that just ain’t fair,” one of the shinigami at the end of the table said, an unseated officer Renji couldn’t place instantly. “You can’t go skimming off the top and bottom, Lieutenant. That leaves nobody for the rest of us.”

The guy was smiling, so Renji decided to take it as a friendly tease. “Heh, well, I was just being nice. I got to be nice to anybody who brings me tea this morning.” He pointed to his head meaningfully.

Chatty guy got the hint and laughed, “A party at the Eleventh?”

Renji picked up his tray and teapot “Something like that.”

“You ought to get us in to one of those, Lieutenant,” chatty guy said, with a gesture indicating himself and his buddies. “I bet that’s a good time.”

Renji stopped on his way out to stand at the end of the table. The chatty guy was on the youngish side with a smooth, fresh face. But otherwise he was kind of typical of one of the Sixth’s recruits, with a fairly conservative hairstyle and not a lot of extra adornments on his uniform. He did seem to be wearing o-juzu on his wrist, a group of round, greenish prayer beads. 

“The Eleventh’s doors are open after hours to any comers, last time I checked.” Renji said, “You don’t need me to introduce you around.” He looked over the group and decided to add, “Just be careful. Their sake is cheap but potent.” 

They gave him appreciative nods like a bunch of over-eager frat boys. As he walked away, Renji seriously considered changing his mind and offering to chaperone any visit to the Eleventh. They were his responsibility, after all. But, then again, Renji kind of always appreciated Ikkaku’s ‘freedom to fail’ model. It was sink or swim, and fuck if you didn’t learn to swim in a hurry that way.

All and all, Renji thought as he made his way to the lieutenant’s building, not a bad start--a little ribbing, but nothing offensive. Yeah, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

#

Byakuya was actually a little afraid of the wrapped present that Eishirō delivered to him. No bigger than a stack of Division requisition forms, the package looked innocuous enough with its Kuchiki blue paper and the little folded crane, but he held it at arm’s length as though it might explode. “From Aunt Masama, you say?”

“Yes, my lord, it arrived by courier only a few hours ago.”

Byakuya was still in the master bedroom having found it difficult to get moving very quickly. Renji’s kisses had been distracting and, truthfully, Byakuya had a bit of a hangover himself. It wasn’t much, just a nagging headache, but it was enough to slow him down and order a second pot of tea before attempting to head into the Division. He sat at the dressing table, having only just finished arranging his hair and the kenseikan.

“It’s three days early,” Byakuya noted, still giving the package a very suspicious inspection. “Shall we put it with the others?” 

“As you wish, my lord,” Eishirō said with a bow. “I only thought that perhaps you might wish to have… advanced warning.”

Even though Eishirō had his hands out to take it, Byakuya continued to turn it over. “It’s certainly is curious, isn’t it? It bends. In fact, it rather feels like a collection of unbound papers. Do you suppose it’s her last will and testament? Has she written me out of her will?” 

“That wouldn’t be much of a present, would it, my lord?” 

Byakuya permitted himself a small smile. “Perhaps not. Though it would mean she was out of my life for good, and that would certainly please me.”

Eishirō’s hands dropped to fold on his knees. He gave Byakuya a patient, yet exasperated look--one Byakuya hadn’t gotten from him since he was a young, impertinent child. It was the kind of look that might be given over the rim of spectacles, if Eishirō wore them. “Perhaps my lord should just open it.”

“I’ll take it with me to the Division,” Byakuya decided. He set the package on the table, and continued to stare at it as his sipped his tea. What was that crafty old woman up to? What would it really be? Certainly, despite its guise as a gift, it would be unpleasant. If Auntie Massey stayed true to form, it would be something to poke at him or take from him or otherwise punish Byakuya for his mistreatment of her. “Perhaps, at lunch, Renji and I can open it together.”

“Ah, yes, misery loves company,” Eishirō smiled kindly. And then, as if that made a thought occur to him, he asked, “Does my lord’s tea need refreshing?”

Byakuya let out a little huff of a laugh. “If I drink any more, I’ll be swimming to the Division.”

#

Renji’s faith in humanity was starting to improve. 

The atmosphere at the office was nearly a hundred-percent business-like—or at least as much as it usually was. Probably it helped that he’d told people they could switch shifts. He did notice a few personnel changes. With at least one of them, however, Renji thought it was more a case of a seized opportunity to stretch out scheduled vacation than anything malicious. But, he tried very hard *not* to keep a mental note of who was absent or to try to puzzle at motivations. He’d promised no recriminations, after all.

Putting his head down, Renji determined to get stuff done. 

In fact, he was nearly through the first shift when Aio showed up. He was standing at the filing cabinets, sorting the last of the shift’s business when she appeared at the doorway. She looked very nervous to be in the lieutenant’s office and everyone stopped to stare at her when she dropped to her knees. The room went silent, so everyone heard her stammering near-whisper: “The master requests your presence at lunch, Lieutenant Abarai.”

Okay. 

Wow, Byakuya.

That really couldn’t be more awkward, especially with the ‘master’ thing. 

Yet, Renji could almost understand Byakuya’s thought process. Probably he figured showing up and asking Renji to lunch would look like a date. 

Of course, so did this. 

Only this had a much more of a … ‘command performance’ feel to it.

And, did she have to use the word ‘master’? Because that just added some connotations and overtones that Renji really didn’t need people considering… particularly since they had a grain of truth to them, he thought as he suddenly felt a raw spot on his ass keenly.

Fuck it all.

Renji tugged on his ear and tried really, really hard not to show the blush spreading across his cheeks. “Ah, thanks, Aio. You can… uh, tell the captain I’ll be in his office in a minute.”

She bowed her head almost to the floor, which just made everything much weirder, and she backed out, like he was the lord of the manner and not Byakuya. 

The room was silent for a long time.

Nanako, bless her heart, finally sighed and said, “Whelp, that was weird.”

Closing the file drawer, Renji nodded. His whole body felt hot with embarrassment—and embarrassment that seemed to want to settle in his crotch, since suddenly everything seemed to be about sex. With a cough, he shifted and said, “Yeah. Very.”

One of the other officers in the room shook her head and muttered exactly what Renji was afraid someone would say out loud: “Does he always ask you out like this? Is that how it started? Did he send a servant with summons?”

No, Renji thought: the first time was so much worse. It was an order. A drunken order to strip. In the office.

“Uh. Yeah. So not talking about that, okay?” Renji said, blindly heading towards the door. “I’ll be back—“ He started, but then he stopped, wondering if ‘in an hour’ made the whole thing sound like a quickie. “Uh, I’ll be back. Later.”

As he dashed out the door, he thought he heard Nanako sigh, “Poor idiot.”

Renji felt conspicuous dashing across the quad, but the overnight snow had everyone rushing around. When he was in front of the captain’s office door, Renji couldn’t quite help a glance over his shoulder. Luckily, no one was looking back at him. If anything the quad was peaceful. The dusting of snow homogenized the landscape, softening edges and blending with the gray, cloud-heavy sky. Only a trail of footprints showed the activity of the Division, crisscrossing the quad and muddying the ground around the Mess Hall.

“Are you planning on standing out there forever, Renji?” Byakuya’s voice came from behind the closed door.

Sliding the door open, Renji stuck his head in, “You know, I never get a chance to say ‘shitsureishimasu.’”

Byakuya sat behind his desk, looking much like he did that first fateful night: haori and kenseikan sharp white in the murky, winter light. A lamp on his desk cast a soft pool of light on the papers on his desk, spotlighting a package of some sort, wrapped in blue paper.

“What’s that?” Renji asked. After kicking off his sandals and closing the door, he came to sit down opposite Byakuya. Renji sat cross-legged as usual, only a little bit aware of sensitive spots on his butt. He’d been sitting on it all day, and was mostly used to the feeling, but seeing Byakuya brought out a little phantom sting. “You got an early birthday present from someone?”

Byakuya glanced up then, an eyebrow arched. “It’s from Aunt Masama.”

“Damn,” Renji breathed, wondering if it he should scoot back a pace or two in case it was booby-trapped. “Have you given it to the Twelfth to make sure it’s not a bomb?” 

Byakuya frowned. “That hadn’t occurred to me, but I really doubt Aunt Masama would be that straight forward, do you?”

“Probably not,” Renji agreed.

Just then, a soft rap on the door announced the arrival of lunch. Aio came in bearing a tray that Byakuya directed she set down in their usual pillowed corner behind the bookshelf. As Renji stood up to relocate, he said, “Yeah, uh, Taicho, it’s really not in Aio’s job description to go fetch me from the lieutenant’s office, is it?” Byakuya and Aio both glanced up at him, curious. “Thing is, I mean I know it’s not my place to tell you how to use your staff and stuff, but that was pretty awkward, what, with everyone thinking about us as a couple.”

Aio started, blinking between to the two of them. It seemed she hadn’t known they’d gone public. Sheesh, given how embarrassed she was, Renji figured she must have. Well, that just made what he said double-true, then. She hadn’t even liked having to fetch him when it was all normal and not-extra-awkward. 

Byakuya didn’t get it, though. He shook his head. “Surely it was better than coming myself. Would not every glance and gesture be gossiped about?”

“Maybe?” Renji said, coming to sit down once Aio had cleared out of the way. With a sigh, he admitted, “Yeah, probably anything would have sucked. I just felt like that, well—it highlighted our class difference.”

“Ah,” Byakuya said with a hint of irritation. After Aio bowed her way out, Byakuya said a quick grace over the food and then added, “I suppose I should have factored that into my decision. However, I was more concerned about how I could ask you to come informally. I didn’t want it to seem like an order.”

Oh? Byakuya’d considered all that? Renji nodded, twisting his mind around the thought-process of a noble: because they courted like this, didn’t they? There was always distance and servants acting as go-betweens. It probably felt more proper to him, more “informal.”

“Right, okay,” Renji acknowledged, scooping some rice onto Byakuya’s plate. The meal was simple enough, a mild-smelling tofu and vegetable curry. “I’m sorry,” Renji said with a huff. “I guess I spent the day waiting for the shoe to drop and Aio showing up saying ‘master’ just felt like a kick in the pants. Plus, wouldn’t you know, one of the soldiers right away wanted to knowif you asked me out the first time via your servants.”

“It’s a common enough practice,” Byakuya said, confirming what Renji suspected. “What did you say?”

Renji gave Byakuya a sharp glance, “I told them you got drunk and ordered me to strip for our first date.” When Byakuya looked horrified, Renji waved off his protests, “Shit, of course not! I didn’t tell them anything. It’s none of their business.” 

Byakuya poured Renji’s tea. “You say that, but sometimes it’s rather difficult to know what you will and will not share with your colleagues, Renji.”

Renji knew this would be coming. “Look, this ain’t down to me! You started it. The whole office was jumping with gossip after whatever you sent in that butterfly of yours. I’d’ve looked like a bald-faced liar if I’d denied it.”

Setting down the teapot, Byakuya sat back in seiza. “I’m not angry about that. I’m still not sure what will come of it all, but I think honesty was the best policy. It was the right choice, especially as Isoroku will no doubt broadcast our relationship to anyone who will listen to him. Best if that’s not a weapon at his disposal.”

Renji glanced back at where the present sat on Byakuya’s desk. “Speaking of weapons, did you want to open that thing?”

“Will it ruin lunch?”

With a shrug, Renji poured some curry over his rice. “It could, I suppose. How long you been waiting to open it?”

Byakuya smiled, as though surprised that Renji would think him impatient. “For hours,” he admitted. “I daresay the anticipation is killing me.”

Renji chuckled, “You know it’s going to suck, right? It ain’t going to be anything nice.”

“Well, precisely,” Byakuya said. “But to what extent will it ‘suck’?”

Renji laughed to hear Byakuya talk like that. “That sounds kind of naughty coming from you, you know that, right? That noble mouth of yours… ” Renji stopped himself with a jolt because, yeah, that noble mouth and sucking… he still cherished that moment in the human world with Byakuya on his knees… and oh, crap, he had to stop thinking about this in a hurry. 

Byakuya hid a laugh behind his tea bowl. “Oh, Renji. I see that it’s not just the rank and file who have been obsessing.”

“Yeah, it’s been hard all day.” Realizing what he just said, Renji covered his mouth. “Ah, I mean, hard on… oh shit.”

Byakuya had to stifle a larger laugh. “Maybe we should distract ourselves with the gift. Get it for us, will you?”

Grateful for an excuse to do something else, Renji got up to fetch the present from the desk. It certainly did feel weird, all floppy. “Huh, if your auntie was in the Gotei, I’d say she requisitioned you a pony. This feels like a stack of papers.”

“Yes, paper. My thoughts exactly,” Byakuya said, taking the present from Renji. As Renji resettled himself, Byakuya turned the package over in his hands thoughtfully. “A pony would be certainly be an inconvenience. I de-acquisitioned much of our stable a long time ago. Once, having a huge battalion of horses here made sense. They were a strategic advantage when we were a final defense, part of the outer wall, but now… well, they’re difficult to keep properly so I only keep a few.” He frowned at the package. “I certainly hope it isn’t a pony.”

“That was a joke, anyway,” Renji said. He briefly considered trying to explain how a pony was usually the thing well out of reach for most kids, but decided it was far more interesting to discover that it was Byakuya who’d gotten rid of a lot of the Kuchiki horses, given his fondness for stable boys. Renji’d always figured the mostly empty stables were a thing Byakuya’d come back to after his exile, a final ‘see what your perversion made me do’ from his grandpa or whoever. It was strange to think of Byakuya making that choice, but maybe it had been a show of discipline, a way to reassure his family that there’d be fewer temptations hanging around. Literally. “So open it up already,” Renji encouraged. “Let’s see what it is.”

“Very well,” Byakuya said, sounding a little excited, almost schoolboyish. 

Renji craned to try to see, as paper got carefully unfolded. “Jeez, rip it already!”

Byakuya shot Renji a withering glance that clearly asked for patience, but it didn’t matter because the paper came away suddenly. All Renji could see was that it was a stack of papers. Though he couldn’t tell, they looked bit like some kind of ancient computer printout.

As Byakuya’s eyes scanned the words, his face grew paler. His hands trembled.

“The hell is it?” Renji demanded.

Byakuya glanced up. “Renji. It’s your soul record.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger! I'm already hard at work on the next chapter, so the wait shouldn't be too painful. (I forgot to warn, will do that now!)


End file.
